


The Piss-adventures of Karkat Vantas

by whizzkid



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Comfort, Crying, Deliberate Wetting, Desperation, Diapers, Dream Bubbles, Embarrassment, M/M, Omorashi, Shame, Towels, Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-06-05 15:16:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15173507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whizzkid/pseuds/whizzkid
Summary: chapter 1: Karkat is too tired to move and winds up having an accident.chapter 2: Dave tries to helps Karkat so he doesn't wet the bed again.chapter 3: Karkat pees in Dave's godtier pants intentionally.chapter 4: Karkat tries to get to the bathroom before he wets himself.chapter 5: Karkat is stuck in a dreambubble, but at least he manages to find a loadgaper this time.chapter 6: Dave and Karkat have a talk after Karkat has an accident on the couch.chapter 7: Karkat wets a diaper





	1. Karkat Vantas Wets the Bed

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic I've ever written like this, so I'm not sure what kinds of tags to use or what warnings apply for this kind of thing  
> anyway I hope you enjoy this first chapter

You're woken up by an awful feeling in your guts. Not exactly nausea, but veering close to the territory. It's not bad enough that you think you'll throw up or anything, just enough to make you slightly uncomfortable. You groan and burrow deeper into your blankets. You're still so tired and you really don't want to get up. 

You elect to ignore the potential problem for now and go back to sleep.

 

You wake up again later, having no idea how much time's passed since you decided to sleep again. You're still groggy as fuck, so you don't think you woke up because you managed to get a good amount of sleep for once in your miserable life. No, of course not. That would be crazy.

You're curled up in on yourself and you're up to your eyes under the covers. Your hands are shoved tightly between your legs. You can feel a moist patch on the fabric that you think is sweat.

 

Your stomach hurts, and you grumble about it but don't do anything else. You decide based on the fine sheen of sweat on your arms and forehead that it's definitely sweat and not something else. 

You don't want to get up.

Back to sleep for you.

 

A pang of discomfort wakes you again, this time you don't even bother to open your eyes. You already know you're not getting up anytime soon no matter what. 

The ring of sweat between your legs is warmer and more moist than before. 

You're so tired you're not even sure you remember exactly where you are. Just that you're too tired to move and you want to go back to sleep, but you have a feeling you won't be able to do that until you take care of whatever the fuck is wrong with you right now.

There's a pressure in your abdominal cavity that you think you could get rid of by pushing hard enough.

You push. 

Nothing happens. 

It takes a considerable amount of straining on your part to push whatever it is out of you. Not all of it, but a little. 

Something liquid burns your skin, and the ring of sweat on your pants grows. It feels hot and wet against your skin.

You gasp, your legs clamping tightly around your hands as you realize what just happened. What's _been_ happening.

This isn't sweat staining your pants. 

No, this is...

This is piss.

You've been slowly leaking piss into your pants all night like a fucking wriggler.

And this time...this most recent addition...this wasn't even an accident. This time wasn't something beyond your control.

You just pissed yourself on purpose.

Oh god, you're worse than a wriggler. 

Your whole body is trembling and sweaty. Now that you know what your issue is, and how to alleviate it, you're having trouble hanging on and not letting loose completely. 

A little drips out and moistens your underwear before you can do anything to stop it. 

A few tears slip down your face. There's nothing you can do at this point. 

You were too lazy to go to the ablutionblock and now you're going to wet your coon. 

You're just glad you're alone and no one else can witness your shame. 

You make yourself as small as possible as you lose your composure just a little more. The warmth spreads leisurely across your pants, and you whimper as it increases from an occasional drip to a trickle. 

The only sounds in the block are the hissing of urine making contact with your already soaked pajamas and the hitch in your breathing as you sob out of embarrassment and shame. 

This was completely avoidable. 

What the fuck is wrong with you?

There's too much for just your pants to contain. It pours through the thin fabric and puddles beside you. 

That's when you remember you're not in a recuperacoon. You're laying in a bed.

You don't...have a bed. 

Oh god oh god you're using someone else's sleeping platform as a loadgaper this is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

Your sudden panic is enough to take away whatever sliver of control you had left on your bladder, and the trickle turns into a stream. 

You do all you can to stop the flood, but no amount of trying to hold it all in with just your hands and your legs pressed tightly together could stop this. You shove as much of the sheets and the blanket between your legs as physically possible. You can feel them becoming messy and sopping as you continue going.

There's nothing you can do. This is happening and you can't stop it at all now. 

You're peeing your pants and your bed like some fucking disgusting dirty wriggler. You feel so gross. 

You hate this sensation and you hate yourself. 

Your nose is stung with the pungent smell of your piss hanging thickly in the air. Your hands are soaked and stinking with your continuing accident. 

You start to cry, loud and uncontrollably. 

You hate this, you hate this so much. 

Why couldn't you have just gone to the loadgaper when you had the chance? 

On the other side of the bed, Dave shifts and rolls over closer to you. 

Fuck you forgot he was here. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You don't want him to know about this, but there's no way in hell he won't know about the horrible thing you just did to his bed.

Are still doing to his bed.

You bite down on your lip to stop yourself from crying out as you push and force yourself to go faster. You can't let Dave feel you peeing, and if he gets any closer to you there's no way he won't. You can still sort of salvage this situation for yourself if you just...if you just finish peeing and pretend you were asleep the whole time and not consciously wetting yourself.

Still embarrassing as fuck, but at least in that scenario you weren't awake and unable to stop yourself because you're a grub with no bladder control. 

This is no longer an accident. Now this is purposeful. Your face is burning with shame as you force as much piss out of your body as quickly as you can.

It's so loud, it's almost deafening.

You can feel yourself getting emptier. You have to bite back the urge to sigh in relief at the feeling. You're almost finished. 

This horrible experience is almost over.

Yes, you'll have to destroy this blanket, the sheets, and your clothes after this, as well as your memory of the event if possible, but you're almost done and this is so close to over.

You're down to a trickle again. It almost doesn't feel like you're adding anything to the horrible mess you've made. Like these are raindrops in the sea. 

After this you'll close your eyes and pretend you don't know this happened. Dave will wake you up, ask you what happened, and you'll act so shocked and unable to believe what you did. You'll apologize profusely for being disgusting. You'll probably cry some more.

Most of this won't be an act, but pretending you weren't aware of it definitely will be. 

"Karkat?" Dave mumbles in the dark. "You awake?"

Oh god.

You're not done.

_You're not done._

Oh god.

You hold your breath and pretend you're asleep. You try to finish going faster. There's not a lot left in you, you can tell.

Please, please, please just let you finish this quickly.

"I thought I heard you crying." He inches closer. "Are you alright?"

His hands snakes around your waist, and he pulls you closer to you. Oh fuck, you know he can feel it. How horribly gross his sheets and his blanket feel. How wet your pants are. 

There's still a little left in you. You can't stop it. 

"Dave, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." You sob as the last of your piss dampens his hands. "I wet the bed."


	2. Karkat Vantas ALMOST Wets the Bed But Ends Up With a Makeshift Toilet Instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dave is a good and understanding boyfriend, and that's all to say on the matter.

Dave was surprisingly understanding about what happened. He told you it was okay and helped you clean up your mess. He even brought you a new pair of sweatpants while you were in the ablution chamber. 

You left the block refreshed, but still embarrassed about the incident. Dave was waiting outside for you, and just seeing him made you feel even more ashamed of yourself. 

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, I just..." God, how the fuck do you apologize for nearly being an adult and pissing someone else's bed? "Sorry."

"No biggie." Dave waves your apology away like it's nothing. "I used to wet the bed all the fucking time, so I get it. Sometimes it just happens."

He patted you sympathetically on the shoulder and started leading you down the hall. "But hey, wake me if you ever think it's gonna happen again. Maybe I can help you out before it gets bad next time."

"Thanks." You're so relieved that Dave's not mad at you. "But I think this was just a one time thing. It won't happen again."

 

It wasn't just a one time thing and oh fuck it's happening again.

You wake up in the middle of the night with your bladder screaming for release. This time you're planning on running to the ablution chamber before anything like last time happens, but a thin stream jets out of you the moment you sit up.

It's been a little over a week since you messed up Dave's bed, and now you're about to repeat the disaster all over again. 

You clamp your hands between your legs and are relieved to discover that your pants are still dry. Your underwear is a different story. 

You rock into your hands as you feel another leak coming. You're powerless to stop it as it drips out of you. You can feel it warm and awful as it's absorbed even more into the fabric. 

At this rate it won't be long before your pants as well as the bed underneath you are wet. 

Shit, you don't want to go through that again. 

There's only one thing you can do now, you're out of options. 

You squirm as you slowly remove one hand from its place clenched at your crotch and use it to shake Dave. Your voice is shrill with desperation. "Dave, wake up!"

He grumbles and tries to swat your hand away so he can go back to sleep, but you keep it up. If it were literally anything else, you'd let him keep sleeping, but this is important. 

"Dave, _please._ "

"What?" His voice is thick with sleep. "What's up?"

"I have to go to the bathroom." Your face heats up with embarrassment, you sound like a little kid.

"Okay." Dave nods understandingly as he reaches over and turns on a light. "Need me to walk you there?"

"No, I...I don't think I can make it." As if to corroborate your claim, your bladder releases just enough to make a dark, wet patch on your pants that your hand can't cover. "I have to go _now_."

Dave nods, his eyes are full of panic as he watches. "Yeah, I can see that. You sure you can't make it?"

You nod. You're barely holding on as is, there's no way you'll be able to walk all the way there without losing it all over the hall floor. "I'm sure."

"Okay, okay that's fine let's just...see what we have in here." Dave starts scanning the room, after a brief search his eyes light up on something. "Alright, I got an idea. Can you sit tight while I get this shit together?"

"I'll try." Fuck knows you'll try.

Dave scrambles off the bed and starts running around the room. You follow him with your eyes but are unable to focus on what he's doing, all of your attention is on keeping yourself from pissing Dave's bed for the second time. You return your other hand to its spot between your legs and squeeze yourself as tight as you can to dam up the impending flood threatening to break. 

"Alright, done!" Dave claps his hands, clearly proud of his handiwork. "Now take off your pants."

You're completely thrown by his odd request. "What?" 

"Your pants." He repeats emphatically. "I can help you take them off, if you want."

You're not sure if you can really move your hands right now to even try to take them off. You accept Dave's offer with a nod.

"Hm. Actually," Dave strokes his chin thoughtfully, "let's get you off the bed first before you drop trou, you know, just in case."

You nod again and start scooting off the bed as quickly as you can to avoid any leakage. Or at the very least, to avoid staining the bed with it. You're not sure where you're supposed to go when you reach the edge, at which point Dave encircles his arms around your waist and pulls you off of the bed so you're standing.

Gravity is your sworn enemy tonight as you feel a significant amount of pee burst through your self restraint and leave a long, dark line down the front of your pants. You whimper at the feeling and the knowledge that Dave just watched that happen. Your bladder aches with need, and you almost double over with the effort of trying to hold it all in.

"Fuck, we don't have long." Dave's hands find the waistband of your pants, and he tugs them down in one quick motion. Your hands are pulled from their place by sheer force, and the lack of pressure on you makes you lose it. 

You try to stop the flow as best you can by pressing your legs together and returning your hands to their position, but it doesn't impede it in the slightest, and your underwear and hands are quickly soaked in hot urine. It slips down your bare legs in thin pink streams. 

Oh god, this is the end. All of Dave's help was for nothing. You're pissing yourself yet again, most of it's probably wetting your pants below you and pooling on his floor. You sniffle at the thought of it, unable to force yourself to look, your eyes screwed tightly shut.

Somehow this is almost worse than wetting the bed. 

"Hey hey hey sh." Dave coos, wiping tears off your face you didn't even know were there. "It's okay, everything's fine, Karkat, it's okay. I just need you to do two things for me real quick, alright? Do you think you could do that?"

You continue to sniffle as you nod. You're still trying and failing to regain control of yourself. You'd do anything to at least feel a little in control right now.

"Okay, good. First I want you to step to the side so I can get those pants out from under you."

You move to the right, almost stumbling over something in the process. Oh god, you're probably peeing on some of Dave's dirty clothes right now. You're so disgusting, what the fuck's wrong with you?

You hear some rustling beside you as Dave picks up your wet and nasty pants and moves them. 

"Alright, I got it. Now for the second thing." Dave's voice is so calm, it's almost soothing. "I want you to sit down."

"Sit down?"

"Yeah. You can stand if you want to, but I think you'd be more comfy if you sat." 

You're confused by what he's asking, but you do it anyway. 

You're shocked to feel something other than the cold, hard floor meet your ass. Instead there's some thick swaths of slightly scratchy cloth spread in uneven bunches beneath you. Towels? 

Dave throws one over your lap. "There. That should absorb whatever you've got in you that you need to let out." 

You still have your eyes closed, but you can feel the air shift as Dave crouches down in front of you. His hand brushes your cheek softly. "You can let go now."

You and he both know that you stopped being in control of this a long time ago, but you appreciate him pretending you have any say in the matter. Just him doing that is enough to make you smile. 

"Listen, I'm gonna leave the room to get you some new clothes and give you a little privacy." Dave says, rubbing your shoulder affectionately. "I'll be back in a couple minutes."

He starts walking to the door, and you can hear it creak open before he pauses. "Oh, right! Take off your undies, okay? I'm guessing you don't wanna soak em more than you need to."

Dave slams the door before you do it, not that he needs to be there to make sure because really, why the fuck wouldn't you. Sure, the undies in question are drenched to hell, but you'll feel so much better with them off. Less like you're having an accident and more like you just happen to be peeing in a weirdly textured loadgaper. 

You shimmy out of your underwear and ball them up in your hand. They feel warm and disgustingly wet in your fist, but you have nowhere else to put them, so you just try to ignore it as you continue to dampen the towels under you with your seemingly unending stream. 

You're so glad Dave's not in here to hear you moan with relief as you release and willingly push as much out of you as you can. 

Yes, you're still embarrassed and a little ashamed of yourself for not being able to make it to an actual loadgaper, but the fact that you didn't end up having a full blown accident and wet the bed again is a victory in and of itself. And Dave's been so understanding and more helpful than you deserve, helping you clean up the first and trying to make you as comfortable as possible while you almost had another accident in his bed.

You're surrounded on all sides by the towel's heavy dampness, and you can feel yourself smile as you finish peeing. The stream turns to a trickle turns to a burning hot dribble and then practically nothing. Occasionally you push just to make sure you got everything out of your system. You want to be completely empty by the time he gets back. 

All your muscles feel weak, and you relax with yet another sigh against the towels. If you pretend it's not your urine they're soaked with, the warmth feels nice against your skin. You actually feel pretty comfortable like this.

The door opens, and you crack open an eye to see Dave walk in. He's carrying a pair of pants and an empty laundry basket. 

"Hey," he smiles at you, "you finished?"

"Yeah." You nod. "Thanks, Dave."

"No prob." He closes the door behind him and walks over to you. He crouches down and kisses you softly. "I'll trade ya your dirty drawers for these pants." 

"Deal." You toss your balled up underwear into the laundry basket and take the clean pants gratefully.

"Hop in the shower before you put those on." Dave says as he picks up your wet discarded pants and drops them in the basket. "I'll take care of all this."

He helps you stand and walks you to the door. You walk awkwardly as you make your way to the ablution chamber, holding the folded up pants in front of your exposed shame. Your legs feel sticky and gross with your drying piss, but you don't mind as much as you did the first time. 

You're so fucking lucky to have someone like Dave in your life.


	3. Karkat Vantas Purposefully Pees Dave's Pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat pees Dave's pants for science.

"Dave," you squirm in your seat nervously, "are you really sure you're okay with this?"

"Yeah, man." He nods. "I'm totally okay with this, I mean it was my idea in the first place."

"I know, but...this definitely seems like a decision you might want the option of taking back."

"Thanks, but I'm good." He waves your offer away with his hand. "What about you? You doing alright over there?"

"No," you shake your head furiously, "I feel like my insides are a fucking bomb just waiting to explode and spray my piss and entrails over every inch of this block."

He snorts. "That was kinda the idea, wasn't it?"

It's pretty fucked up that he's not wrong.

You're sitting on the loadgaper, and you have to piss worse than you've ever had to in your entire god damn life. But you can't seem to get yourself to unclench your muscles and go at all. 

Fuck, the one time you want to piss your pants and suddenly your bladder's turned to steel.

Your legs are jiggling violently as you try to force a leak. 

You feel like you're going to drown from the amount of piss filling you up inside, it shouldn't take this much coercion. And yet you're pushing so hard to get just a trickle going that you're grunting from the sheer amount of effort.

All your hard work seems like it's going to pay off. Fuck, finally! You know once this happens, there's no way you'll be able to hold back the floodgates for much longer and you'll be peeing your pants just as planned.

Well, not your pants. Dave's technically.

The reminder that these are Dave's pants you're ruining and not your own causes you to hold yourself and stop pushing without thinking about it. 

Dave watches what must be the weirdest fucking wiggle show from his spot on the edge of the ablution trap. His head is tilted to the side and you feel your face darken with a deep blush. Maybe this would be easier for you to do if Dave wasn't in here watching you so fucking intently in nothing but a t-shirt and his underwear. 

"You still having trouble there?" He asks. "Some pissues? Want me to get you another cup of water or something?"

There's a good chance that if he leaves the block to get you another glass of water you'll cluckbeast out and take his pants off so you can pee. Then you'll not only feel ashamed of yourself for not doing the thing you set out to do, but you'll have to perform this awful and excruciatingly humiliating experiment all over again.

"Dave, if you do that I will literally fucking die." 

There's an actual scientific reason you're trying to piss in Dave's pants as opposed to into the loadgaper you're sitting on right now. 

Because of your recent "bathroom troubles" as Dave has been referring to them as, you've both been trying to figure how to keep that shit from happening again, or at least to minimize the damage done to Dave's bed or his stuff as best you can. One of the options Dave told you about was more of an experimental idea than a fleshed out plan. 

Dave's god tier pants are self cleaning. So far, no matter what he's spilled on it has always gone away instantaneously. So based off that, it should work, right? Only one problem, Dave's only spilled shit on the outside of the pants and none from the inside. 

What if there's some weird fucking loophole that keeps the pants from getting cleaned if the mess is from the inside?

Better to learn now than later after you have another accident and mess up both Dave's bed _and_ his pants. 

So the current plan is just to piss in Dave's pants and see what happens from there.

God, what the fuck's happened with your life?

You whimper and squeeze yourself. You want and need to pee so bad it actually hurts. Can't the universe just let you have this one thing? Why won't it let you do something humiliating when you actually want to fucking do it? 

"Wow, you're really struggling with this." Dave says, making the most obvious observation in the entire universe. You want to offer a witty and scathing retort, but your too busy biting back another embarrassing and needy sound instead. "You know what, I got an idea."

Dave walks across the block and over to the sink. He has one hand on the knob of the faucet as if he's waiting for your go ahead to start the water. 

You slowly remove your hands from between your legs and clutch the edges of the gaper's seat tightly. Your legs you spread a few inches apart so your thighs are no longer clenched together. "Last call to save your pants."

"Nah, man." He turns the faucet on. "Wreck away."

The sound of running water is just what you needed to be sent over the edge. The stream is thin, but fast. Your underwear is dampened and then in a split second soaked through. It's clinging uncomfortable and warm against your skin and it makes you shudder with disgust.

You wait for the moment your piss starts to form an embarrassing dark spot on Dave's pants.

The moment never comes. 

It's not like you haven't wet enough for a stain to hit, based on the sorry state of your underwear and the fact that your stream has only continued on uninhibited from that point, there should be a big and very visible wet patch. 

Holy shit, it actually worked?

"Well?" Dave inquires, leaving the sink and crouching down next to you so you're somewhat at eye level. "Did it work? Or do you think we should try something else?"

Dave can't tell you're peeing your pants right now. There's literally no visible signs for him to notice that. Wow.

You nod, your face flushed with embarrassment at the fact you have to admit this. "No, that was enough. We don't need to do any other shit."

"Oh. So you're um...you're going right now?" 

You nod again. 

"Do you think it was enough to wet my pants?"

God, this is humiliating to say. "Way more than enough."

"Wow, this is actually super crazy now that I think about it for more than a second." Dave inches closer to you. "I wouldn't have been able to figure that out at all if you hadn't informed me. I mean, I can kind of hear it and maybe smell if I try hard enough, but I wouldn't have put two and two together. Or I guess number one and one."

"Fuck, you can smell it?" You groan, covering your face with your hands. "I don't want to know that."

"Well yeah, but this is a bathroom, man, it's not like this is the worst smell I could expect in here." He shrugs. "Hey, this is gonna sound like a weird request, and feel free to say no if you're not cool with it, but do you mind if I...?"

Dave holds his hand up and hovers it over your crotch, once again waiting for your go ahead.

"You want permission to grope me while I piss myself?"

Dave's face flushes a bright and flustered red. "Yeah, I guess that is what I'm asking. Do you mind? For science?"

"Okay, fine." You sigh, dropping your hands from your face. "For science."

Dave places his hand on the front of your pants and starts trying to feel around in a way that you would think was him propositioning you if it weren't for the current situation. Who knows, maybe later? Definitely not right now, though. 

"God, this is surreal." He breathes. "Like I know you're peeing right now, but these are bone fucking dry. Wonder what the inside's like."

"Jesus, Dave, you're feeling really handsy tonight or something?" You laugh. 

He blushes harder. "Sorry."

"No, it's...it's fine." You spread your legs a little wider and pull at the pants' waistband. "They're your pants, you have every right to know how gross I'm making them." 

"Alright, if you're cool with it." Dave wiggles his fingers in preparation before he shoves his hand down your pants.

The moment you feel Dave's cold fingers against your skin you force yourself to stop going and hold what's left in your bladder. Dave's hand rummages around in your pants, making contact with the completely dry fabric of your pants and your absolutely sopping underwear. 

"Oh, holy shit." He gasps in surprise, rubbing the wet fabric between his fingers. "You really went all out."

He continues to feel around your underwear and touching you in a way that you wish you could derive some pleasure from and probably fucking would if Dave wasn't feeling you up through your urine soaked boxers and if you weren't distracted trying so hard to not empty the remains of your bladder all over his hand. 

"So, you're done, then?" Dave asks, looking up at you curiously. "Hey, are you feeling alright?"

God, you must look really bad if he's asking that. Honestly, you do feel really bad holding it in after letting go of so much. Your stomach hurts. "I still really have to go."

He tilts his head curiously. "Then why don't you?" 

"I don't want to pee on your hand, Dave."

"Oh, right." He blushes again in embarrassment (as if he has shit to be embarrassed about right now) and extracts his hand from your pants. "Alright, there you go." 

There's a sudden, quick spurt that remoistens your underwear the moment Dave's hand is gone. And then, with a sigh of relief, you let go of everything left in a warm and heavy stream. 

Dave gets up and turns off the faucet as you finish peeing. Once you stream trickles down to nothing but a dribble, you relax against the loadgaper and close your eyes. You just peed your pants and you've never felt better in your life. 

"So," Dave begins. You crack open an eye and see him sitting on the edge of the sink, "how you feeling after that?"

"Pretty good." You sigh contentedly. "A little gross. I think it might just be because of how disgusting and clammy my underwear is right now." 

He nods. "Sounds about right. But other than that, you're good? You were okay with how that went?"

"Yeah." You nod. You wet yourself and there's no proof of it aside from your empty bladder and soaked underwear. 

"And you're cool with wearing my pants to bed from now on?" He asks. "You know, to prevent further accidents and shit?"

"I don't see a better option, so sure I'll wear your fucking pants." You shrug. 

"Hey, you know what I just realized?" Dave grins.

You raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"You're gonna have to go commando from now on."


	4. Karkat Vantas Has An Accident In The Hall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat thinks he might be able to make it to the bathroom, but his bladder seems to think otherwise.

You wake up fully aware of an overwhelming need to pee. You assess your situation carefully. You have to piss pretty badly, yes, but you don't think it's quite as bad as the other times you've woken up in this same scenario recently. 

You think maybe if you tried really hard and sprinted, you could make it to the loadgaper this time. 

Your bladder gives off a sharp pang of need just at the thought. 

Shit, you're gonna have to do this fast.

You sit bolt upright in bed and crawl out as quickly as you can with how clenched all your muscles are. The mattress creaks beneath you. 

"Karkat?" Dave mumbles groggily. "You going somewhere?"

"Gaper." You reply. You resist the urge to stick your hand between your legs and grip yourself. It's not too that point yet. You know that. 

If you allow yourself that right now then your willpower is sure to break long before you make it there. Instead, you wiggle uncomfortably, grinding your ass into the bed.

Dave sits up and rubs his eye with the back of his hand. "How bad you gotta go?"

"Pretty bad." You admit, your face flares up with embarrassment. Dave's seen you in worse and more compromising positions than this, but still the admittance is humiliating. "But I think I can make it."

"If you say so." He nods. "And hey, remember it's okay if you can't and you end up having an accident. You got your pj's on. Specifically, my pj's."

Fuck, you wish he'd stop saying pee.

You grind your teeth to avoid whimpering. 

"You know what," Dave says, "I kinda have to go, too. I'll come with you."

"Okay, if you insist." You can't decide if it's going to be better or worse for you with Dave there. At least he'll keep you company on the trip there, and he'll probably help you take your mind off your issue for a little bit. But at the same time, if you end up completely desperate and need to use your pants in the middle of the hall you're going to hate yourself just a little more with him there witnessing your shame once again.

But it's not like you can tell him he can't fucking go to the bathroom, that's just cruel and hypocritical. And if you were to do that, you'd give him back his pants out of guilt just in case. 

Then where will you be if you fuck up and piss in the hall? 

On your hands and knees scrubbing the floor in a desperate attempt to destroy all evidence of your shame is where. 

Your bladder reclaims your attention with another painful throb. You cross one leg over the other. God, you need to stop thinking about going to the ablutionblock and actually do something about it.

"Let's go already." You stand up and instantly have to sit back down to prevent a leak. "Fuck."

Dave crawls over to you and rubs your shoulder. "You alright?"

"Yeah." You nod as you attempt to gain your composure. "Yeah, I'm okay. Come on, gaper, let's go."

"My name's not gaper but alright." Dave gets up and grabs your hand, and you slowly make your way off the bed and to a standing position. "Let's go."

You can only manage to shuffle your feet as you move down the hall. Dave on the other hand you can tell is still capable of walking because his bladder isn't threatening to burst at any sudden move. Fuck you, you guess.

You wonder if Dave even has to go at all or if he just said that so he could come with you and make sure you get there alright. 

You're not sure if you would prefer that over the fact that he has to go and is able to actually fucking control himself. It almost seems like he's lording his ability to hold his bladder effectively over you. Which is stupid, but it's currently how you feel.

The ablutionblock isn't very far down the hall, but with how much your bladder is weighing you down now that you've made the decision to journey to the load gaper and take care of your problem, it feels like you're a slugbeast and the loadgaper is a million miles away from you. God, this was such a bad decision. Maybe you should have just pissed in bed again and gotten it over with. 

Just considering that is enough for your muscles to give in of their own accord. You freeze in place and gasp in shock as a spurt of urine escapes your grip. 

"Karkat?"

You whine as you squat in the middle of the hall and shove your free hand between your legs. You feel your eyes prick with embarrassment as you slowly leak involuntarily into your pants.

Dave's still holding your hand as you pee yourself. He squeezes it in what you think is supposed to be a comforting gesture, but just reminds you of the fact that he's just standing there and holding his own bladder like it's nothing. Because it literally fucking is nothing. Fuck.

There's tears dripping down your face. They're hot and uncomfortable and almost more embarrassing than the fact that you're wetting yourself right now. Probably because unlike that, Dave can actually see it.

"Hey, it's alright," Dave kneels down beside you and wipes at your face with his sleeve, "we talked about this, remember? You're wearing my pants specifically in case something like this happened. It's okay."

"I know." You nod. You're trying to stop crying, but it's hard. "But...it's really fucking humiliating that I just...can't hold it. Dave, I really hate this."

"I get it." He nods, his thumb rubbing circles into your hand. "I get that you hate this and it's a really sucky situation, but it's okay, y'know? I mean, yeah, it's a problem, but we're working on it. Just let go of what you need to right now, and if it ends up being everything, that's alright. If not, we'll keep walking. We're almost there."

You manage to stop the leak and contain what's left of your still overfull bladder, but it takes a tremendous amount of your effort and a trembling hand pressed hard against the ache. 

"I don't think I can walk anymore." You admit regretfully. If you try to move you think there's a good chance you're going to have a full accident. You don't want that.

"So you still gotta go?" Dave asks. You nod, as if your desperation wasn't clear through your body language. "And you still want to try to make it to the bathroom, right?"

You nod again, because of course you do. Why wouldn't you? 

"Okay," Dave says, "If you can't get up and walk there, I'll carry you."

You sit there on the floor in complete shock. "What?"

"Yeah." He nods resolutely as he stands up. "Come on, we'll piggyback."

"Are you sure you can handle that?" You ask. "Carrying me?"

"Of course I can. It's not that far, we can make it there." He pulls on your hand insistently, and you get up slowly. 

You have to cross your legs and shove your hand even harder against yourself to prevent another leak. You can feel it all dangerously close to spilling over. 

"Here, come on." Dave crouches down and taps his shoulder. "Hop on my back."

You wrap your arms around his shoulders. As Dave starts to stand, he hooks his arms under your legs for support. Your legs are wrenched apart suddenly, and you whine as you try your best to hold everything in without the help of any pressure on you.

"Sorry." He apologizes. You think he sounds sincere. "You won't have to hold it for very long, I promise. I'll walk as fast as I can."

You press your forehead into his shoulder and squeeze your legs tightly into his sides. It doesn't help much. "Thanks."

He starts walking as quickly as he can to the point where it's closer to a jogging pace. You feel lousy about it because you know he's doing it to get you there before you're out of time and end up using your pants as a gaper again, but it's jostling your bladder to the point that it hurts. You end up having to wiggle and press as hard as you can against Dave's back to give yourself the needed pressure to help you hold better. You know your constant movement is slowing him down, but you can't help it. You really fucking can't.

You can feel it all, the pressure mounting in your bladder and threatening to break at any moment. Nothing you're doing is helping or relieving your discomfort at all. 

You don't think you're going to make it. There's nothing more you can do at this point. It's only a matter of precious seconds before the dam breaks and you flood your pants.

Dave takes another step.

Your breath hitches as hot urine gushes out of you. 

Oh fuck oh fuck no no no. You're peeing not just in your pants, but on Dave's back, too. You can't believe this is happening. 

Your eyes are cloudy with tears, and they spill down your face and onto Dave's collar, where they promptly disappear, leaving no proof of their staining.

"Dave," you sob, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, put me down I-"

You can't say it. You just can't. You just cry as hard as you can while you continue to piss yourself. 

If you were wearing regular clothes and Dave's cape wasn't made of magic, they would both be soaked through by now. 

Dave stops moving, but doesn't put you down. Fuck, you want to stop, but you can't. You need him to put you down. "Karkat, are you sure you want me to put you down?"

You nod emphatically. "I'm sure."

"Alright, if that's really what you want." Dave crouches and puts you down. You land on the ground and immediately curl in on yourself, pressing your hands into your crotch in a futile attempt to hold yourself and locking your legs together. Dave looks at you, face full of concern. His face just makes your vision swim with even more tears. "Did you have another accident?"

You nod and cry even more. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it anymore, Dave I...I pissed on your back."

"It's okay." He reaches over and rubs your shoulder. "It's not like you did it on purpose. And besides, I couldn't feel it, anyway." 

That doesn't make you feel any better. You knew he wouldn't be able to tell the whole time. The problem is that it happened, that you couldn't hold your piss in while Dave so graciously offered to carry you. It doesn't matter that Dave doesn't seem to mind how gross you are, what matters is that he has to put up with you.

There's not enough fluid left in your body to both piss and cry about it, and isn't it just your luck that you would run out of tears first. You sniffle and hide your face against the cold floor, your face is burning with shame. \

"Are you done?" Dave asks, still rubbing your shoulder gently. "Do you want to go back to our room?"

"No." You push yourself up on your elbows and look at him. He looks so worried about you, but somehow not disgusted. He's sitting so close to you that if you weren't wearing his pants you can tell he'd be kneeling in a puddle of your cooling piss. 

You've managed to empty yourself enough to regain a fraction of your control, and you strain your muscles to the point of near fatigue to dam up what little of the flood remains. 

"I don't want to go back to our block." You clarify. "Dave, didn't you say you had to go, too?"

"Well yeah, but I can-" He catches himself before he says it, but it still makes you flinch. "-sorry."

"I'm walking you to the ablutionblock, Dave." You stand up shakily and hold your hand out to him. "Come on."

"Okay." He takes your hand. "Fuck whoever said chivalry was dead."

You shuffle the last couple few feet there, you can tell Dave could still walk faster than you there if he wasn't holding your hand and keeping pace with you. He doesn't seem to care, he's not in a hurry at all. 

You get to the door, and you push it open for him. "Go on in."

Dave smiles at you. "Thanks, Karkat."

You step to the side, and Dave pauses halfway in. "Do you still have to go at all?"

You shake your head. "No, I already finished. You go ahead."

Dave nods and closes the door behind himself. Once the door is closed, you lean against the wall and groan quietly. 

You lied to Dave. You still have to pee, and you're barely containing it. 

Yes, you could have just gone in there and used the loadgaper, but there's not enough left that you think it would really be worth it after all the effort you went through to get there. Especially considering Dave said he had to go, too. You'd feel like you were being a total fucking sadistic bastard, making him stand in the hall and hold it while you squeeze the last few insignificant drops out of yourself. 

Purposefully letting go takes just about as much effort as it does to hold. You focus on your willpower on the release, closing your eyes and pushing with all your might. 

You manage a drop, then another, and then a thin dribble. All your muscles go weak and you sigh as you find relief in your finally emptying bladder. 

You force the last of it out with one final push in a spurt that almost burns as you hear Dave wash his hands. He comes out moments after you finish. 

"Hey," he smiles at you, "thanks for waiting for me."

"No problem." You take his hand and start walking.

"You sure you're okay?" Dave asks. "You got it all out? We can turn around if you want."

"I'm okay." You lean your head against his shoulder. "I just want to go back to bed."

You go back to bed with Dave, and he cuddles beside you without prompting from you. Despite the fact that he literally watched you piss your pants not ten minutes ago, he's more than willing to spoon you until you fall asleep. You don't think you've ever felt so loved in your life.


	5. Karkat Vantas Get Lost in a Dreambubble but Finds a Loadgaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking about this chapter for awhile and finally got around to writing it.   
> I hope you enjoy <3 
> 
> (Sorry there's no dialogue in this one it's just Karkat by himself)

You’re wandering around an empty hallway in a place you’ve never been in before. It’s a strange and winding passage and you feel like you’ve been walking forever. Somehow, in that entire horrible eternity, you haven’t seen a single soul. That’s the only blessing to be found here, you think. You’d be even less excited to see anyone here than you usually are, because of the circumstances you’re currently in.

You have to piss like a sonofabitch and you haven’t seen an ablution chamber since you got here. Or any blocks, for that matter. This place seems totally void of any sort of offshoots or doors. Just an endless expanse of hall stretching forever.

Of course this would happen to you right now. Right when you need it the least. 

You have to walk slow to prevent your overfull bladder from throbbing and threatening to spill. Granted, it wouldn’t matter too much if you did end up stopping right here to piss in your pants instead of prolonging the inevitable by continuing a pointless search for a gaper or, fuck, any receptical really. You were lucky enough to be caught here in Dave’s pants so it’s not like there’d be any proof if you did.

But peeing yourself is a last resort, as it should always be. 

If you were being honest with yourself it shouldn’t even be on the list of fucking options in the first place. Somehow though paradox space has found a new way to get off on your misfortune and fuck you over by shrinking your bladder down to the size of a shriveled maggot. If you had any sort of normal function, pissing anywhere other than in the loadgaper would be on the list of shit you’d never consider doing right next to chewing the mold between the ceiling grates or stuffing a buzzsaw in your ear. 

But, as you continue to walk endlessly forward, it’s becoming a more and more likely option.

You were uncomfortably full of water when you got here, and somehow more has managed to accumulate and bloat your bladder ever slowly forward until you’ve reached this point. The point where it feels like if you don’t let go soon, of at least the tiniest trickle, your bladder will simply burst inside of you and you’ll die in a puddle of your own cooling piss in some weird nightmare hall.

You stop walking and shove both your hands between your thighs. You’re well aware this will alleviate fuckall for you and start bouncing from foot to foot with the embarrassing urgency of a barely trained wriggler. 

But it’s not enough.

A leak springs. The tiniest of hot droplets reluctantly squeezed out of you. Somehow, there’s nothing else. Even if you weren’t wearing these, it wouldn’t be enough to wet your pants. And for that, you’re relieved out of your pan.

But not too relieved. If you relax for even a second all liquid hell will break loose. 

Time to cautiously but quickly continue walking. Because who the fuck knows? Maybe there’s a loadgaper hidden somewhere in this hall. Maybe there’s a room coming up with a good trashcan or a jar big enough to hold a flood.

You jiggle almost uncontrollably as you waddle with your hand clamped tight in place. You may not have given up hope for relief yet, but you sure as fuck have given up your dignity. You’ve never been more glad to be alone in your entire goddamn life. 

You leak a tiny bit between steps, and even though you’re certain there would at least be a spot visible now it doesn’t dull the need in the slightest. You try to move faster. It’s hard as hell given the way you’re clutching yourself as well as all the muscles in your legs. Still, you’re well aware that if you stop it’ll be the end.

You feel more than you see the bubble shift around you. And just like that, the insane monster hallway is over with and you’re trapped in an equally unfamiliar but definitely easier to navigate territory. 

You’re in a hive, you think it’s one of the human ones but you couldn’t give less of a shit right now because you know if there’s one thing hives have, it’s bathrooms. 

As soon as that hits you, you’re racing around the space (or racing as well as you can while keeping a tight grip on the whole situation) looking for anything that even resembles a bathroom. Yeah, you’d be okay with going anywhere with the level of piss you’re carrying, but if you can actually make it to a gaper then like hell you’re settling for less.

Lucky you, there’s a block with a loadgaper right on the ground floor. You don’t even have to climb any stairs to get to one, it’s right here! All alien and shiny and full of some clear fluid and just waiting for you to come in and fill it. 

There’s a thin trickle that signals the warning that if you’re gonna go, you better go fucking now or you’ll end up peeing in your pants like a pan dead moron in front of it.

You waste no time. You step in and drop your pants in one motion as fluid as what’s leaking uncontrollably out of you. Some definitely ends up in your pants between the time it takes you to actually get to the gaper and fall exhaustedly onto it.

You don’t bother to close the door and you sigh in shameless relief as you let go of your fragile hold on it. It splashes in loud and unabated. 

Despite your relief and slightly embarrassed feeling of triumph about making it for fucking once, there’s something in the back of your pan that feels a little….unnerved. It’s nagging and prickly and spoiling the moment. You close your eyes and focus on that part. 

Something about the dreambubble…

And about your pants….

Is this….a bubble the meteor is phasing through, or one you woke up in? 

You remember walking, and that’s all. It stands to reason that you were walking around the meteor when the bubble hit and that you’ll be out soon.

But if you were just walking around the meteor….why would you be wearing Dave’s pants? You only wear those when you go to-

Fuck! 

FUCK fuck fuck fuck fuck!!

You wake up midstream in Dave’s bed. To your left, Dave is fast asleep and unaware of what’s happening. 

And that’s fine. You won’t bother him with what’s going on. It’s not like you can stop now, anyway. You knew as soon as you got on that loadgaper that that was the end of the line.

You move as far away from Dave as you can and close your eyes. You imagine you’re still sitting on a gaper so you can at least try to enjoy the go. 

The release is beautiful. It’s warm and sounds like a calm stream as your urine hits the fabric. And the best part is, there’s no guilty wet feeling surrounding you so you have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.

It’s a long moment before you’re empty, but once you are you feel absolutely fine. You bury yourself deep into the blankets. You’re so warm and so tired that you can barely keep your eyes open.

You fall asleep quickly.


	6. Dave Strider Has a Guilty Conscience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three important things about this chapter:  
> 1\. It's pretty dialogue heavy (to make up for last time)  
> 2\. Most of it takes place after the actual accident  
> 3\. This one is from Dave's perspective
> 
> I know that's all kind of different from how I usually do it, but I thought it would be fun to try something new. Please enjoy!

This time it was kind of your fault that it happened. You're the one who suggested hanging out on the couch instead of in your room. You fell asleep first during the movie marathon. 

Now you're doing your best to wash the couch cushions and his shorts while he sits on the floor, dripping shower water onto your cape. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch as he wipes his eyes with his sleeve and tries to hide a sniffle. 

God, you really fucked this one up, didn't you?

"Hey, it's alright. It was an accident, they happen." 

"Yeah, I know, that's the problem, asshat! They just keep happening and happening and I don't know what to do about it anymore." He pulls his legs up to his chest and lays his head on his knees, making himself as small as possible. You're pretty sure you hear a hitch in his breathing.

Your heart goes out to him. He's been struggling with this for awhile and you know that, but there's nothing else you can really do or say to comfort him any more than this. You're being as supportive and understanding as you can, but it doesn't seem like it's enough.

"Karkat, come on, dude." You sit down on the floor next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. "Everything's fine, see? We're getting everything all washed and you got cleaned up real quick and as soon as we put it all back in place we can spray shit down with some fucking Troll Axe body spray or whatever musk enhancer y'all use just to play it safe and no one will know! It'll be like nothing happened."

"Yeah, but...I'll know. And you'll know. That's two more people than I'd like knowing about this to begin with, Dave." Karkat raises his head for a moment and frowns. "I wish it hadn't happened at all. I wish I'd woken up just a few lousy minutes earlier, or even a few seconds. I don't care if I couldn't make it to the gaper, I would have preferred to piss on the floor than on the couch. At least that I could have cleaned up by myself." 

"How many times do I have to give a speech about it being okay to ask for help about this?" You rub his back affectionately, and he leans into your touch. "I don't have a problem with it, I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Well clearly I'm not okay or we wouldn't be talking about this to begin with." He snaps back at you. "I get that you want to help but I wish it wasn't something you felt like you had to do. Maybe I should start sleeping somewhere else from now on. Like my block. By myself. Where you won't have to clean up after me like I'm some kind of barkbeast who hasn't been hivebroken yet."

He turns his face away from you and pulls his knees closer. His ears are bright red with embarrassment just discussing this. 

"What, and leave you to mope and cry in your piss puddle by yourself all night like we both know you'll do?" You know that's a little harsh, especially from the way he flinches when you say piss puddle, but like hell you're letting him deal by himself when you know how much of an ashamed wreck he is. Plus if he leaves, who are you gonna cuddle at night? Your pillow? Not the same. "Nah, man. If you go back to sleeping in your room by yourself then I'm just going to sleep in the hall and wait for when you need me. Like fuck I'm going to let you handle this alone."

"Don't be a dumbass." He gives you a lighthearted push. "If you're going to be that much of a stubborn jackass then obviously you can sleep on the floor in my block. I'll make you a pile."

"Wow, if that isn't the most loving gesture I've ever heard, then I don't know what love is."

"I'm not sure you do." He snorts.

You grin because it's always nice to hear him laugh. That means he's feeling better, at least a little. One step closer to being done wallowing for the night.

One step closer to easing your guilt. 

The washing machine is banging and making ungodly noises you never knew a machine like that could make. Maybe you put too heavy a load in? You don't know, you honestly haven't done all that much laundry in the past.

Karkat stares at the machine and sighs. "I'm sorry for being such an abominable bulgepanned douche, and for pissing on the couch and making you clean it up."

"Dude, I shoved some shit into a machine. It's the least I could do."

There were definitely other things you could have done. Should have done. But like an idiot, you didn't.

Karkat leans his head against you. His hair is still wet, but it smells nice. Whatever shampoo he uses is fucking superb. "We both know the least you could have done is nothing. You must be really damn stupid to mix up the terms least and most like that."

"Words," you shrug, "they're some tough shit."

For awhile, neither of you say anything, you both just stare at the washing machine as it goes through its cycle as if it's the most interesting thing in the universe. You have a feeling that you and Karkat are both thinking about the same thing, though. 

Without warning, he groans, hiding his face in his hands. "Why the fuck does this keep happening to me? And why now, of all times? Why not when I was a wriggler? Or in the future when I'm geriatric and infirm? I'm at a point in my life where I'm healthy and able bodied, so why can't I control my own bladder long enough to go to the load gaper at night?"

"I don't know. Puberty, maybe?" You suggest. "Instead of getting an assload of pimples or a growth spurt, your raging sea of hormones decided to curse you with a shrunken night bladder."

"What the fuck." He throws his hands up into the air in defeat. "I would have rather had ass pimples."

"Trust me, no you wouldn't. But hey, if I'm right then that means by the time your stupid hormones calm down, you should go back to having full control of your functions again. That's a relief, right?"

"It'd be more of a relief if I knew you were right and had a surefire way to protect myself from it happening again." He retorts, rolling his eyes. "And don't say your pants are enough, because I've been relying on those a fuck ton and look where that got us."

"Okay but the problem wasn't that you wear my pants to bed, the problem was that you fell asleep at a nonbed time in a nonsleep area. If you wore my pants all the time, then the problem would be solved."

"I already feel bad enough stealing them at night, I'm not keeping your pants, Dave." He wraps your cape tightly around himself as he says that. You almost want to point out the hypocrisy of that, but now's not the right time. "We're gonna have to think of something else. I don't want to go through anything like this ever again."

Yeah, tonight was...bad. For both of you.

You and Karkat had been hanging out, watching movies and cuddling on the couch. All the cuddling made Karkat pretty hot, so he'd decided to wear shorts. Not something you'd ever seen him wear before, but like you were gonna complain about your boyfriend's exposed legs. You don't remember who drifted off first, but at some point you and he both fell asleep. 

You remember you woke up briefly. You were in a sleepy haze, not even fully awake and close to falling again. Still, you were able to register what you were seeing. Karkat was beside you, still fast asleep. He was murmuring and rubbing his legs together like a cricket, his hands jammed firmly between them. It was pretty clear to you that Karkat needed to use the bathroom, and probably soon.

You debated with yourself briefly about waking him up. Was it worth the effort to do that? To wake him from his slumber and alert him to this issue, especially since his track record for making it to the toilet was pretty bad? Would he even have a chance of making it there right now, or would you just succeed at embarrassing him and making him feel ashamed for not being able to hold it? The last thing you wanted to do was to make him feel bad about himself, so you decided to let him sleep and pee himself in his sleep instead. 

Which would have been fine, if he'd been wearing your pants like your sleepy brain thought he was.

You woke up again to panicked sobbing. You'd sat up immediately and were about to ask Karkat what the problem when you noticed for yourself. His shorts were completely soaked through and the couch was growing damp rapidly as Karkat wet himself. He had his fingers pressed futilely into his gushing groin, unable to stop or even hinder his stream. 

"Dave, get off the couch." He'd pleaded with you desperately. "I can't stop."

You were quick to scramble off of it like he asked, not because you were worried about getting any piss on you, but because you thought he'd probably feel a little better if you did. As soon as you were off, you sprung into action. You took off your cape and threw it over his lap, then you instructed him to tuck it underneath him so he could keep going without wrecking the couch any more than he already had. 

He did what you said, but he didn't stop crying the whole time and asked you to look away. You did as he requested, listening to his loud hiccupping crying accompanied by the softer hiss of his urinating. There was nothing more you wanted to do right then than hug him and tell him that everything was fine, but he wouldn't like that and honestly it would probably just make him feel worse. You couldn't even so much as hold his hand right now without inspiring a feeling of self loathing in him. 

Once he'd finished he wasn't sure what to do or where to start cleaning up. You'd told him to just cover up with your cape and go take a shower. You'd take care of the rest.

And now here you are, holding him like you wanted to, but not feeling like you're providing any sort of help or comfort. Should you tell Karkat that you could have potentially prevented this? That you're partially responsible for what happened tonight?

Would that make him feel better, or worse? Would he even want to know?

"Dave, what do you think I should do?" Karkat's eyes are big and trusting. His voice has that same pleading tone from earlier. You're the only person that knows about this, the only person he's willing to go to for help even though he hates asking for it. The one person he loves and trusts implicitly, even with the most sensitive topic.

It would probably hurt him a lot if he knew you'd caused him to have an accident. 

"I know how this is gonna sound, but hear me out." You'll keep it to yourself. At least for now. "Have you thought about wearing diapers?"

He pulls away from you immediately. "Dave, I'm not a fucking wriggler, I don't need a diaper."

"Karkat, there's no shame in them if you do need one." You gesture for him to come back to you, but he refuses. That's fine. "I'm gonna level with you here, I actually used to wet the bed til I was...god, I've never admitted this before...until I was thirteen. You know, after the game started and everything. I think it was mostly just from stress and shit, but that's not what we're talking about right now. Anyway, I wore diapers for awhile. Yeah, at first it was kinda embarrassing, but it felt a lot nicer than waking up to a cold, wet bed all the time and having to clean the sheets daily. I promise I won't think any less of you if you start wearing them, and since I've been there before you know it's not a shit ton of empty words I'll take back later."

Karkat scrunches his eyebrows. "Did you really?"

"Yeah." You nod. 

He eases back into your embrace. "Assuming I do decide to wear a diaper on occasion from now on, how the fuck am I gonna alchemize that shit? And if I...you know...use it, how am I supposed to get rid of it without anyone seeing? The girls aren't exactly dense, I think they'll notice if the trash starts to pile up with pissy diapers."

"I don't know if trolls have this, but cloth diapers are a thing on earth." You start combing your fingers through the soft tangles of his hair. "Those are probably the best option. We can make them ourselves, and since they'd be washable we can just throw one in every time you use it and you cam wear it again later. As long as you don't start doing big business in there I'm sure you'll be fine."

He snorts again. 

"Hey, Dave?" Karkat stretches a hand out to yours and intertwines your fingers together, squeezing gently.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

You're about to tell him that you don't need to be thanked when the washer beeps that the load is done. You and Karkat both get up and start switching everything over to the dryer. 

And just like that, the wet night comes to a close.


	7. Karkat Vantas Pees in a Diaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin. Please enjoy <3

You take another long sip of your tea and squirm a little beside Dave. Your bladder is already starting to make you uncomfortable and on top of that, you're pretty sleepy. You know that's supposed to happen because otherwise this idea won't work, but still there's a part in the back of your mind that's protesting the idea of staying in bed with a dangerously weak bladder. 

You give yourself some much needed friction by rubbing your legs together and hoping Dave doesn't notice.

"Hey," Oh fuck, he noticed, "you doing okay? If the diaper's not comfy I can try to make you a different one." 

"No." You shake your head. "It's fine. I just wish we didn't have to call it a fucking diaper, though. It's such a wriggler term, makes me feel like shit." 

The diaper itself isn't too bad. Dave made it himself, as well as a few other prototypes for your time of relief. This particular one caught your bulb in a steel trap: the outside was clearly made from a sheet, covered in hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs. The inside was lined with what used to be the fluffiest, most absorbent towels you had. Honestly, you only chose it because it seemed like the safest bet to avoid leakage and you're not gonna lie, you do like the quadrant pattern. 

It's a little bulky and it feels strange having a dry towel pressed up against you. You want to say as much but at the same time, you're not wearing it for comfort, you're wearing it for protection. 

"Hm...well what else could we call it?" Dave wonders. One of his hands moves over to yours and takes your fingers between his. "I guess pull-ups are a thing?"

You shake your head. This thing doesn't even pull up at all, you had to tie the edges at your hip yourself. 

"Anything that even implies I'm using them as a portable loadgaper is something I want to avoid. If anyone heard us talking about it I swear to fuck I would release a torrent of red hot shame so hard and fast I'd die instantly."

"Good thing you've got that diaper, then." 

You snort and push him lightly. Inside your body, your bladder is pulsating. You ignore it. 

"You're just gonna be wearing them at night, so really we could just call them your pajamas." Dave shrugs. "Really, though, I think you're over thinking it. Why would we be talking about this in a public area, and if we were, who the fuck would even be listening? What, Vriska developed super hearing only attuned to embarrassing Karkat stories?" 

"The name change is mostly for me, though yes, if anyone were to hear us talking about it odds are it would be that bitch and I don't want to give her the benefit of full honesty. But I just...really don't want to call it a diaper right now. I know I need it and if I din't wear it I'm going to have more accidents but shit, if that's not embarrassing and painful to admit." Dave moves his hand from yours and rubs your shoulder. "Hey, you're not pitying me because I need one of these, right? Human pity, I mean? Do you think less of me because I can't control a basuc bodily function?" 

"Dude, holy fuck, no! Of course not. All this has zero reflection on you as a troll to me. In my eyes, you're still a total stubborn jackass with a big vocabulary that you like to swing around." He kisses your cheek. "You're also very proud and hilarious as fuck and probably the smartest person I know." 

"Thanks." You needed that more than you thought. "Dave, could you do one more thing for me?"

"Sure. Anything you need." 

"Could you read to me? Until I'm asleep?" 

Dave eyes the half empty tea cup in your hand suspiciously. "You sure you drank enough?" 

"I had three cups of water before this, I drank way more than enough." 

"Alright, get yourself settled, then. It's story time with the roles reversed. Y'all ready for this?" 

You put your teacup down and burrow deep into the blankets. One of your hands makes its way between your legs. You'd intended to grip yourself and add pressure to your groin, but the diaper's in the way. You can't even feel your hand down there through all the layers. "Shut up and read already." 

"Alright, alright." 

Dave starts reading, and you don't even survive the whole chapter before you drift out of consciousness.

You wake up cold. And wet. Very, very wet. 

You're sent into an instant panic. Did it leak after all? 

You sit up and open your mouth to launch an apology to Dave when you notice two things.

He's asleep.

The hand that you still have pressed against you, buried in your crotch, is completely dry.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Nothing got out, you were just shocked by how wet the diaper was. You're not used to that feeling without an accompanying mess.

For a second, you relax.

Your bladder gives a needy twinge, and you instantly stiffen in response.

Did you not empty it completely the first time? 

It's so wet already...could it even hold more? 

As you debate this, your body starts to protest the hold. Your stomach hurts, and the muscles in your legs are trembling. You almost want to cry. 

You start rocking back and forth against your hand. The motion must be enough to wake Dave, because he sits up and rubs his eyes.

"Something wrong?" He asks, yawning. "It's okay if the diaper didn't get it all. We can just clean it up, it's not that hard. We'll just try a different one next time." 

"No, it's not that!" You shake your head. "It got all of it. I just..." 

"What?" 

"I have to go again." 

"Okay." He nods. "Then why don't you?" 

You stop rocking for a moment. Your grip slips. "What?" 

"If you gotta go, then you should." He shrugs. "We don't know how much the diaper can hold, it might be okay." 

"And if it's not?" 

"Like I said, clean up is easy. Whatever happens, it's alright. Just pee, Karkat." 

That was all you needed to hear. The stream begins of its own accord, and you're embarrassed about how relieved you feel. 

Your hand is still between your legs. You can feel the already soaked fabric of your diaper getting wetter until eventually it can't hold it all and your pants begin to moisten.

You whimper at that and try to regain control, but you can't. It's too late. 

Dave pulls back the blanket so you're exposed and gently removes your hand from your middle. He holds it and lays the other on top of the expanding stain. 

"It's alright, sssh. See? It's not even that bad, it doesn't even take my whole hand to cover it. Nothing to get upset about." 

You nod but sniffle anyway because this is awful and Dave's actually feeling you piss which wasn't something you ever wanted to happen. 

He squeezes your hand. "Almost done, I bet." 

He's right, you are. He can probably tell from how it's tapering off from a stream to a drivel. 

You finish, the diaper feels heavy from how much you drained into it. Even worse, you still managed to wreck your pants. 

"Okay, so these seem to be a one and done type of deal." Dave says, completely unphased by your accident. "Karkat, do you usually have to go twice in one night?" 

"No." You shake your head as you subtly try to determine if any of your piss hit the sheets. "This was the first time, I think." 

"Okay." Dave nods. "Maybe we overdid it on the drinks this time. Sorry about that." 

"What the fuck are you sorry for?" You stand up, the diaper sags from the wet weight of it and makes you flinch in disgust. "Not like you peed my pants." 

"I've got some spare sweats over there if you'd rather wear those." He points you to a heap of clothes on the floor. Of course he doesn't know how to fold or hang anything. "If you just wanna pop your dirties in the basket I'll get to them in a minute." 

"Fuck, Dave, don't be ridiculous." You slide your sweatpants off and untie the knots on your hips keeping the soggy, piss soaked diaper in place. "I'm not gonna make you do my laundry. Go back to sleep." 

"Okay, fine, if you insist I don't do anything, then I won't." He gives in quickly, laying back down. "One more question, though." 

You put a pair of Dave's pants over your slightly sticky legs. You'll wash these too, you think. "What?" 

"Was that one okay, or do we need to try out another one?" 

"This one was fine. Thanks for doing this, Dave." 

"Don't mention it." He replies. "Hurry back, I don't like sleeping alone." 

"Sure thing." You take the dirty basket and run. If you rush your ablution and change quickly, you should be able to get back in twenty minutes.

You don't want to keep Dave waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but probably soon.
> 
> If you have anything you'd like to request, please feel free to visit my tumblr blog [@st0ryb0ard](https://st0ryb0ard.tumblr.com/) and send me an ask.


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